Twilight Reminiscence
by Sasquatch Kumquats
Summary: A bit of SadStuck for you. Written out over the course of a school day. In short, Dave sits alone on his roof and thinks back to when his best bro, John, was still alive.


Dave Strider lies on his back, alone on the roof of his apartment building, iPod playing some rather fitting music for the situation from its dock, watching the sun sink slowly, drowning in memories. Three years. It had been three years since he'd come up here to admire the heavens. Three years he'd been without his one and only stargazing buddy. Three years without his best friend. Three years without the love of his life. Today marked the third anniversary of the death of John Egbert. ~

Dave remembers that day as vividly as if it happens again and again every time he closes his eyes. Getting that terrifying call from John's father, barely registering it when the situation was explained to him for the shock of the revelation, and sprinting all the way to the hospital, only managing to make it there to see John through the last four hours and thirteen minutes of his life. The poor thing was bandaged and broken, and hardly responsive at all. Some blond woman, drunk off her ass and text-messaging while driving, had made a sharp turn right onto the sidewalk in her jeep, slamming straight into and running over John, crushing him beneath the tires. Ribs, limbs and vertebrae were shattered, his skull had cracked, and he was bleeding very badly, both internally and externally.

He'd clung stubbornly to life for fourteen hours and twenty-seven minutes, nine and a quarter hours of that time spent in emergency surgery. Despite the doctors' best efforts, the situation was clearly hopeless. There was simply too much damage. John wouldn't make it through the night.

It was so hard seeing John like that, lying broken and dying in a hospital bed in a cold, white room, hooked up to morphine and heart monitors and other scary-looking contraptions that seemed to be showing the remaining extent of John's life slowly fading away. Even so, when John would manage to open his eyes for a few fleeting moments at a time, they still showed traces of their legendary sparkle when they met with Dave's own eyes, which he'd deemed important to uncover from behind his mirrored aviators. He'd hate to have John see only his own reflection when he looked up at Dave. That would just be cruel of him.

Dave watched that lively, happy little sparkle haze over and fizzle out as John drew his final breath, too-blue eyes going glassy before closing for a final time. ~

Dave moves his glasses to the top of his head and wipes his now wet eyes with the back of a pale hand. The sun had finally sunken beneath the horizon, the lingering rays of its light bathing the world in a breathtaking shade.

John had always loved this time of day. He and Dave would often sit together on Dave's apartment building's roof and just watched as the world changed from twilight's milky blue to midnight's pitch black. _"Don't'cha think it's pretty, Dave?"_ John would say._ "I haven't seen such a pretty blue anywhere else."_ Dave would respond to John's statement similarly each time. _"Really? 'Cause __**I**__ see an __**extremely**__ pretty blue behind those dorky glasses you've got on."_ This would typically earn Dave an adorable giggle, a light punch on the shoulder or, as quickly became his favorite after they'd begun dating, a butterfly soft kiss on the cheek or lips before John would gladly accept Dave's outstretched hand and cuddle up close.

Dave gently rubs at the circles beneath his eyes, blinking away the small headache forming behind them. John always nagged him when Dave neglected sleep in favor of mixing some mad beats and dropping sick fires for a few nights. He'd say it wasn't healthy for Dave's brain, not to mention the strain it put on his eyes and neck to hunch over and stare at the tiny switches and buttons on his tables and the small font text on his computer screen for so long without a rest. One time, when it had gotten exceptionally bad and Dave had been awake for six days straight, John had actually grounded him, so to speak, and had Dave stay over his house for a few nights so John could make sure that Dave neither mixed any sick beats nor touched a computer until John deemed him well enough rested to do so. Since then, Dave has strongly doubted that he'll ever sleep better than he had those few nights at John's, snuggled up with him under the covers, hugging John's warm, sleeping figure into Dave's own chest. Needless to say, it was blissful.

A light breeze picks up, tousling Dave's hair and bringing a smile to his lips. He remembered distinctly how John had always liked the feeling of wind rushing past him, ruffling his hair and clothes and whistling in his ears. _"The wind makes it feel like I'm flying!"_ He'd told Dave the very first day they'd met in the fourth grade, when Dave had approached him for the first time ever halfway through the school year to inquire why John only ever played on the swing set at recess. Even back then he'd found John's liking for the wind adorable, even if he did call John weird for it, as is to be expected from playground cool kids.

Dave holds up a hand, feeling the wind rush between his fingers and chill his palm. It was a comforting feeling, like he could physically touch this memory of John whenever a good breeze picked up. He gingerly lets his fingers curl and close, pressing his handful of wind to his chest.

Dave's eyes slip shut, memories of John playing like movies behind his eyelids. The memories ranged from the little sweet things to the big significant things, like the day Dave finally got the balls to ask John out and had received a yes and, later, a face-full of red confetti and blue Gushers that shot from his school locker, as planned for by his trickster best friend and new boyfriend. Significant memories like the one of their first kiss, which had been shared accidentally while they had been not-so-seriously arguing about a video game that John had been failing miserably at, but had quickly escalated to being one of the best kisses they'd ever shared, not that all of them weren't fantastic. Little memories like the two of them watching _Titanic_ in the middle of the night, as they often watched midnight movies, and Dave hugging John close when he started to cry. Sweet little memories like when the two of them would pick one of their houses and just bro out there for entire weeks at a time.

A small, sad smile plays on Dave's lips as his eyes open again, gazing up at the now darkened, starry sky. He picks out the identifiable constellations and even makes a few up, remembering those that he'd created that had made John laugh. Dave would have given anything to hear that laugh again. It had never failed to bring an enormous smile to his face.

All thought was pushed entirely from Dave's mind if it didn't involve John. Everything lacking John was completely forgotten right now, lost in the abyss for the time being, replaced by images of permanently and endearingly messy black hair, thick glasses that were constantly sliding too far down a cute button nose, a set of front teeth that poked out from beneath a petal soft upper lip, and a pair of eyes so blue, they'd put the morning sky to shame.

The wind picks up once more, breathing softly in Dave's ear, bringing a tear to his eye. His normally faint Texan drawl becomes a touch more pronounced as he bites back those tears, whispering aloud into the wind, imagining John were there to hear, to know how much Dave missed him and to somehow, miraculously, make everything all better, to heal the hole John had left in Dave's heart when he'd left the world so abruptly.

"**I miss you so much, John. I wish you were here."**

**AUTHOR'S NOTE.**

**This… was actually a stupidly vivid dream I had that I just typed out. XD It had the narration and everything in the dream. All I did was write it up.**

**I think it turned out fairly well, for my first time writing sadstuck. Or anything involving mentions of romance, for that matter. XD**

**Dave Strider & John Egbert are Homestuck characters, created and owned by Andrew Hussie. **


End file.
